i have these! i swear i'm not making this stuff up--here are some pictures to share with you (and prove it)! there's captions on 'em and everything so should you have questions...learn to read.
click here to take a look :)
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Land of Coconut Trees
Twelve Days Back: I spent an extra day in Pondicherry because after 4-5 hours of running around town and waiting in various lines and talking with various people, I'd concluded that there was no way at all to travel southbound until a day later than I'd planned. How could this be? you ask. There must have been some way unexplored. The answer is simple: Oonam. This 10 day festival takes place in Kerala (state on the western coast) and is such that all people who once lived there come flooding back to celebrate with their families. Thus Tamil Nadu--Kerala's neighboring state--is effected in that all southward going transport is booked weeks in advance, particularly trains. Oonam. I passed this extra day being an extra for a TV commercial advertising a local magazine. This translated to free lunch, an afternoon spent with young people, a few rounds of cards, some standing around and posing happily arm in arm with a German guy and 1000 rupees pay. Stellar.
En route to Kanniyakumari, the overnight bus hit gridlock traffic multiple times and we were some 4 hours delayed in reaching Nagercoil making a total of about 18 hours on buses for me. Oonam.
Eleven Days Back: Kanniyakumari sits at the southern most tip of India where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea meet and you can see sunrise and sunset with a simple turn of the head. I won't downplay the awesome-ness of its location; I'm not sad I went there. However, once the initial excitement over the geography of the place wares, there's really not a reason in reach to be there. Thus after a sunset, dinner and conversation with Carl--a really nice british guy who seemed to share my every opinion about India and life in general, and I his--and a sunrise, I was on my way.
Ten Days Back: Kovalam Beach was a much better fit. I got there by bus and ran into some heavy traffic along the way. Oonam. Ah well, I was happy to have arrived anyway--masses of coconut trees and sandy beaches were there to welcome me and it was breath of fresh air; even the fact that it was a bit touristy was a welcome change. And the pollichanthu fish was finger-lickin' good (I left nothing on the banana leaf but bones and eyeballs).
Eight Days Back: On to Varkala. I had my first train ride to get there and it was...unforgettable. Long story halfway short, I had confused some information that I'd gotten from someone before I left about what class ticket I should buy because the terminology wasn't what I thought and ended up riding what I now believe to be '2nd class ordinary'. Translation: the lowest of the low. Not only that, but I discovered later after exiting that of the two cars designated for this ticket, one was mostly women and I'd gotten on the other one. It was a wonder I even got on at all. How could I have overlooked this?! Oonam! It was an absolute mob scene to board and somehow I managed to push my way in far enough to be swept up luggage and all through the tiny doorway. I learned from one of the fellows three inches from my face that there's no limit to the number of tickets sold for 2nd class ordinary so once you purchase a ticket, it then becomes your job to make it on however you can. Luckily my ride was short--only an hour or less--because squeezing in with 20-some men (I counted those I could see by craning my neck) in the narrow space between the two halves of the car was less than comfortable. No one could budge an inch. Exiting at my stop proved even more difficult than getting on in the first place and lucky for me once again, the people around me were very nice and spotted my stop and gave me and my bags the hefty shove we required to remove ourselves from the mess against the new crew of people trying to force their way on. Though Oonam has now come to an end (finally), that will be my only stint with 2nd class ordinary rail travel.
Moving on, Varkala is a place no traveler can possibly dislike. The tourist strip of guesthouses, ayurvedic centers, restaurants and shops is perched along the dge of breathtaking red cliffs which slope down to moss covered rocks and beach below. Though it is a tourist strip, it seems just to offer what you need all in a nice row without being obnoxious or imposing less a few call for your business from shop owners. I can't imagine tiring of admiring the cliffs in the changing light--in fact, I stayed an extra night just to continue doing so.
My first day there I had a deja vu and then another one shortly after (does that make it a squared or something?). A french woman I'd spoken to briefly in Kanniyakumari walked right into the restaurant where I was sipping my pineapple juice and watching the sun go down. She joined me for a chat and then later that evening I almost literally ran into the isreali brothers I'd spent a short time going around with the same day as I'd first met the french woman! Weird. One of the brothers and another isreali couple who we had dinner with were in the habit of doing yoga as well so we all met the next couple of mornings to practice--lovely to have company for that.
The following night, another Indian home opened its doors to me (that makes 3 now-does this sort of thing happen in the US I wonder?). A really outgoing, young and talkative (even more than the rest) Indian guy named Manu invited me for dinner after only a 5 minute conversation. That night he and his two roommates showed me and a french couple (Manu had met them later the same afternoon) how to make chapati and chicken masala curry from scratch. Manu's roommate Atol said I was better at making chapati than he was and swore I must have had prior experience--maybe in another life :) After lots of laughs, I left with a full stomach impressed all the more by the hospitality and generosity offered to me no questions asked.
The following day I realized that I'd been slacking on my alternative medicine research and decided it was time for my first ayurvedic massage. An hour and half and copious amounts of oil later, I felt relaxed if a bit greasy. Although the rub down was enjoyable for sure, I think I prefer Thai style which does a better job of kneading, stretching and pounding out my muscles. Still, the ayurvedic massage is worth a second go 'round to double check it.
Five Days Back: Next was Allepey, a jumping off place for Kerala's crown jewel--the backwaters. Over a shaky skype connection, I had arranged for a homestay with a family on Chennamkarry island. I was skeptical of Mathew's directions "once you're off the ferry walk 5 minutes until you see a 2 story house and that's the one" but sure enough, once I left the boat, there was only one way to go and the big house stood out like a sore thumb (much like me in this country I suppose). The homestay was costing me quadruple what I'd been paying for a night's stay but it included all meals (home cooking!) and tea and aside from that, I knew within the first couple of hours it'd be priceless anyway. When I arrived Mathew, a 30-some year old indian guy who speaks excellent english (such a luxury!) and is somehow both shy and outgoing greeted me warmly and called for lemon ginger juice (yum!). I dropped my things just in time for afternoon tea. Mathew and I talked for an hour or two about many things-of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings (name that movie anyone?) and also about backwater life and what it was like to grow up there and Indian healthcare and politics. I learned a lot so I will put some info for those interested parties in a separate document which I haven't yet written and will update this post to include it when I have (see blog posted in October entitled 'um woops'). Meanwhile, Mathew's brother's 2 really cute girls were busy putting sugar in their tea by the fistful--literally (reminds me of someone...). At around 6:00 Mathew took me by canoe and motorbike to try Toddy (it had come up in conversation). As we whizzed along, the sun was setting across the rice paddies behind the coconut trees and struck me as one of those sundowns you catch by accident and it's more spectacular than the ones you watch on purpose. But I digress; toddy is an alcoholic drink extracted by the toddy tappers from the flower shoots of coconut trees. When it's taken out by these skilled tree climbers (amaxing to watch them scurry up a trunk), it's already 2% alcohol by volume and over the course of only two days it ferments itself up to 12%. We ordered one form that morning and one from the previous day and sipped them in the toddy hut as we continued our conversation. Not everyone enjoys this beverage due to its pungent smell--even Thomas can't really stomach it, but I didn't mind the odor though it was a little vinegary (toddy will turn into vinegar if left and can be used for cooking). To me the milky white drink tasted faintly of apple cider and I quite liked it (much to everyone's amusement I think.)
The next day began slowly; with Thomas's directions I took a walk and then a bike ride through the villages, along the canals and by the rice paddies. In the afternoon, after a delicious lunch, more travelers arrived and we were all having tea when one of the authors of Lonely Planet stopped by on a house boat to update the info on the place. We pulled out our guide books after he left and sure enough, there was his picture and a funny little blurb on pg 21 in the 'authors' section! Later on, Mathew took me and the two english girls and the french couple who had arrived on a walk around, explaining things as we went. This is how we learned that 'Kera' means coconut tree and thus 'Kerala'= land of the coconut trees! It's aptly named for sure. What I'd seen of the state from the south up was packed to the brim with then and the backwaters were no different. From the canals, they're all you can see unless you look closely and then rooftops poke through here and there and glimpses of the encased rice paddies can be had. It was a hazy twilight as we were making our way along and just turning dark as we boarded the canoe waiting to take us back to the house. We drifted through the water under a clear starry sky and Mathew and the canoe driver entertained us with songs passed down through families from people of the lowest caste--essentially slaves. Their voices boomed over the flat water in Malayalam --Kerala's native language (it's a palindrome in case you didn't notice and I think that's such a perfect quality for the name of a language to possess.) The songs were wonderfully rich to hear and transported us back to the time, not so long ago, when the caste system was strong in Kerala. As a state, Kerala is very progressive--one of the main underlying reasons I think, why travelers take to it--but sadly, in other parts of India, caste still determines status and opportunity. Almost home, we drifted by a shack on the side of the canal and Mathew spoke to the man there who then popped inside, came out, and hustled along the bank to catch up to us and hand over... a Jackie Chan movie--the place was a video rental shop! It's small happenings such as this one that prompt this wide spread description of India: "It's like no place you've ever been before or have yet to ever go."
That evening, we all learned donkey (a Keralan card game), the next morning we had a long bike ride and after lunch, I was on my way, sad to go, but eager to explore the next place.
Three Days Back: Fort Kochin's windy cobblestone streets greeted me on arrival after a ferry, a bus ride, an autorickshaw, another ferry and a good bit of walking. 2 nights there were just enough to appreciate those streets and buildings with their leftover traces of dutch influence. During my stay, I also picked out a couple prawns and a butterfish just plucked from the sea by the fishmongers and had them cooked up straight away oozing with garlic and lemon. Yum. Later I attended a Kathicali traditional dance show which kept my attention more due to its oddity than anything else, but keep my attention it did. Men with loads of makeup on in costumes with big headdresses and bigger hoop skirts using odd twitchy facial expressions and hand gestures to communicate will generally hold one's gaze. (Find me later for the video footage.) Fort Kochin was my last stop in Kerala and though the land of the coconut trees had treated me well, I was ready for a change of climate and I'd heard that's just what was in store for me in Ooty.
En route to Kanniyakumari, the overnight bus hit gridlock traffic multiple times and we were some 4 hours delayed in reaching Nagercoil making a total of about 18 hours on buses for me. Oonam.
Eleven Days Back: Kanniyakumari sits at the southern most tip of India where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea meet and you can see sunrise and sunset with a simple turn of the head. I won't downplay the awesome-ness of its location; I'm not sad I went there. However, once the initial excitement over the geography of the place wares, there's really not a reason in reach to be there. Thus after a sunset, dinner and conversation with Carl--a really nice british guy who seemed to share my every opinion about India and life in general, and I his--and a sunrise, I was on my way.
Ten Days Back: Kovalam Beach was a much better fit. I got there by bus and ran into some heavy traffic along the way. Oonam. Ah well, I was happy to have arrived anyway--masses of coconut trees and sandy beaches were there to welcome me and it was breath of fresh air; even the fact that it was a bit touristy was a welcome change. And the pollichanthu fish was finger-lickin' good (I left nothing on the banana leaf but bones and eyeballs).
Eight Days Back: On to Varkala. I had my first train ride to get there and it was...unforgettable. Long story halfway short, I had confused some information that I'd gotten from someone before I left about what class ticket I should buy because the terminology wasn't what I thought and ended up riding what I now believe to be '2nd class ordinary'. Translation: the lowest of the low. Not only that, but I discovered later after exiting that of the two cars designated for this ticket, one was mostly women and I'd gotten on the other one. It was a wonder I even got on at all. How could I have overlooked this?! Oonam! It was an absolute mob scene to board and somehow I managed to push my way in far enough to be swept up luggage and all through the tiny doorway. I learned from one of the fellows three inches from my face that there's no limit to the number of tickets sold for 2nd class ordinary so once you purchase a ticket, it then becomes your job to make it on however you can. Luckily my ride was short--only an hour or less--because squeezing in with 20-some men (I counted those I could see by craning my neck) in the narrow space between the two halves of the car was less than comfortable. No one could budge an inch. Exiting at my stop proved even more difficult than getting on in the first place and lucky for me once again, the people around me were very nice and spotted my stop and gave me and my bags the hefty shove we required to remove ourselves from the mess against the new crew of people trying to force their way on. Though Oonam has now come to an end (finally), that will be my only stint with 2nd class ordinary rail travel.
Moving on, Varkala is a place no traveler can possibly dislike. The tourist strip of guesthouses, ayurvedic centers, restaurants and shops is perched along the dge of breathtaking red cliffs which slope down to moss covered rocks and beach below. Though it is a tourist strip, it seems just to offer what you need all in a nice row without being obnoxious or imposing less a few call for your business from shop owners. I can't imagine tiring of admiring the cliffs in the changing light--in fact, I stayed an extra night just to continue doing so.
My first day there I had a deja vu and then another one shortly after (does that make it a squared or something?). A french woman I'd spoken to briefly in Kanniyakumari walked right into the restaurant where I was sipping my pineapple juice and watching the sun go down. She joined me for a chat and then later that evening I almost literally ran into the isreali brothers I'd spent a short time going around with the same day as I'd first met the french woman! Weird. One of the brothers and another isreali couple who we had dinner with were in the habit of doing yoga as well so we all met the next couple of mornings to practice--lovely to have company for that.
The following night, another Indian home opened its doors to me (that makes 3 now-does this sort of thing happen in the US I wonder?). A really outgoing, young and talkative (even more than the rest) Indian guy named Manu invited me for dinner after only a 5 minute conversation. That night he and his two roommates showed me and a french couple (Manu had met them later the same afternoon) how to make chapati and chicken masala curry from scratch. Manu's roommate Atol said I was better at making chapati than he was and swore I must have had prior experience--maybe in another life :) After lots of laughs, I left with a full stomach impressed all the more by the hospitality and generosity offered to me no questions asked.
The following day I realized that I'd been slacking on my alternative medicine research and decided it was time for my first ayurvedic massage. An hour and half and copious amounts of oil later, I felt relaxed if a bit greasy. Although the rub down was enjoyable for sure, I think I prefer Thai style which does a better job of kneading, stretching and pounding out my muscles. Still, the ayurvedic massage is worth a second go 'round to double check it.
Five Days Back: Next was Allepey, a jumping off place for Kerala's crown jewel--the backwaters. Over a shaky skype connection, I had arranged for a homestay with a family on Chennamkarry island. I was skeptical of Mathew's directions "once you're off the ferry walk 5 minutes until you see a 2 story house and that's the one" but sure enough, once I left the boat, there was only one way to go and the big house stood out like a sore thumb (much like me in this country I suppose). The homestay was costing me quadruple what I'd been paying for a night's stay but it included all meals (home cooking!) and tea and aside from that, I knew within the first couple of hours it'd be priceless anyway. When I arrived Mathew, a 30-some year old indian guy who speaks excellent english (such a luxury!) and is somehow both shy and outgoing greeted me warmly and called for lemon ginger juice (yum!). I dropped my things just in time for afternoon tea. Mathew and I talked for an hour or two about many things-of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings (name that movie anyone?) and also about backwater life and what it was like to grow up there and Indian healthcare and politics. I learned a lot so I will put some info for those interested parties in a separate document which I haven't yet written and will update this post to include it when I have (see blog posted in October entitled 'um woops'). Meanwhile, Mathew's brother's 2 really cute girls were busy putting sugar in their tea by the fistful--literally (reminds me of someone...). At around 6:00 Mathew took me by canoe and motorbike to try Toddy (it had come up in conversation). As we whizzed along, the sun was setting across the rice paddies behind the coconut trees and struck me as one of those sundowns you catch by accident and it's more spectacular than the ones you watch on purpose. But I digress; toddy is an alcoholic drink extracted by the toddy tappers from the flower shoots of coconut trees. When it's taken out by these skilled tree climbers (amaxing to watch them scurry up a trunk), it's already 2% alcohol by volume and over the course of only two days it ferments itself up to 12%. We ordered one form that morning and one from the previous day and sipped them in the toddy hut as we continued our conversation. Not everyone enjoys this beverage due to its pungent smell--even Thomas can't really stomach it, but I didn't mind the odor though it was a little vinegary (toddy will turn into vinegar if left and can be used for cooking). To me the milky white drink tasted faintly of apple cider and I quite liked it (much to everyone's amusement I think.)
The next day began slowly; with Thomas's directions I took a walk and then a bike ride through the villages, along the canals and by the rice paddies. In the afternoon, after a delicious lunch, more travelers arrived and we were all having tea when one of the authors of Lonely Planet stopped by on a house boat to update the info on the place. We pulled out our guide books after he left and sure enough, there was his picture and a funny little blurb on pg 21 in the 'authors' section! Later on, Mathew took me and the two english girls and the french couple who had arrived on a walk around, explaining things as we went. This is how we learned that 'Kera' means coconut tree and thus 'Kerala'= land of the coconut trees! It's aptly named for sure. What I'd seen of the state from the south up was packed to the brim with then and the backwaters were no different. From the canals, they're all you can see unless you look closely and then rooftops poke through here and there and glimpses of the encased rice paddies can be had. It was a hazy twilight as we were making our way along and just turning dark as we boarded the canoe waiting to take us back to the house. We drifted through the water under a clear starry sky and Mathew and the canoe driver entertained us with songs passed down through families from people of the lowest caste--essentially slaves. Their voices boomed over the flat water in Malayalam --Kerala's native language (it's a palindrome in case you didn't notice and I think that's such a perfect quality for the name of a language to possess.) The songs were wonderfully rich to hear and transported us back to the time, not so long ago, when the caste system was strong in Kerala. As a state, Kerala is very progressive--one of the main underlying reasons I think, why travelers take to it--but sadly, in other parts of India, caste still determines status and opportunity. Almost home, we drifted by a shack on the side of the canal and Mathew spoke to the man there who then popped inside, came out, and hustled along the bank to catch up to us and hand over... a Jackie Chan movie--the place was a video rental shop! It's small happenings such as this one that prompt this wide spread description of India: "It's like no place you've ever been before or have yet to ever go."
That evening, we all learned donkey (a Keralan card game), the next morning we had a long bike ride and after lunch, I was on my way, sad to go, but eager to explore the next place.
Three Days Back: Fort Kochin's windy cobblestone streets greeted me on arrival after a ferry, a bus ride, an autorickshaw, another ferry and a good bit of walking. 2 nights there were just enough to appreciate those streets and buildings with their leftover traces of dutch influence. During my stay, I also picked out a couple prawns and a butterfish just plucked from the sea by the fishmongers and had them cooked up straight away oozing with garlic and lemon. Yum. Later I attended a Kathicali traditional dance show which kept my attention more due to its oddity than anything else, but keep my attention it did. Men with loads of makeup on in costumes with big headdresses and bigger hoop skirts using odd twitchy facial expressions and hand gestures to communicate will generally hold one's gaze. (Find me later for the video footage.) Fort Kochin was my last stop in Kerala and though the land of the coconut trees had treated me well, I was ready for a change of climate and I'd heard that's just what was in store for me in Ooty.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Tribute to Elastic Waistbands
Before I came to India, I heard a few recurring things about it from everyone I spoke to--expect nothing because you'll be wrong, it's unlike any place you've been before or ever will go to, you will hate it, love it and miss it when you go. So far they've been right except for one thing; I expected to pay pennies and eat well and I was dead on. If you are hungry, best fetch a snack to have while reading this one because you may otherwise begin to chew on whatever is within reach.
I am consistently amazed at what food I can get for my rupee. Every time the bill comes, I crack a little smile--I feel as though I'm robbing the place blind! I often end up leaving a hefty 20-30% tip though none is expected- that comes out to about 10 rupees (25 cents). Finally, a place where I can afford to be classy! The name's Kocian. Julia Kocian.
I will now describe for you staple Indian foods. (Why are these not our staple foods!? you could kill in cafeteria swapping with this stuff!) A typical simple meal is some type of flatbread or rice served with dahl (lentil soup) and a variety of different sauces/stews which you either dip/pick up with the bread or mix with the rice, scoop up with your fingers and shovel in with the back of your thumb. There are many variations of flatbread but the most common is dosa. Dosa is made fresh--it's crunchy in the middle where the griddle was hot and around the sides where the batter was thin. The rest is soft and spongy, tears just right and is comforting and delicious any time of day just by itself. It usually comes folded over or rolled around a heap of yummy potato stew-just the right amount of spicy and creamy. Along side is dahl (of course) and a masala sauce and a curd sauce. The masala based one is red and a bit spicy and the curd one is white and cools your mouth--a loverly ying yang thang. Rice is just white rice here but what makes it shine is everything that goes on top. If you order the "full meal" (also called thalis I believe but I've never seen it listed that way) you get a gigantic banana leaf upon which rice is mounded way too high. Then the servers come around and dish different sauces and stews and/or curries on top, you mix it up and scoop it up and enjoy. The only problem with this meal is that the servers assume you want more by default so unless you are (and really even if you are) on your game to tell them no thank you in time, you feel uncomfortably stuffed through the next meal time and possibly the next after that. I sort of avoid these due to that sensation. I don't know how the locals aren't tipping the scales big time considering how much they can put away in one sitting. I've seen men literally consume more than a pot of rice plus all the fixins. The light is always green for seconds and thirds. Oh yeah, the full meals cost around 75 cents.
So those are the basics. The menus at restaurants are always really long and I haven't been able to try everything of course, but it's funny, whatever I order (generally) tends to look a lot like what I got the last time (under a different name too) but with a twist maybe. For now, that's alright with me-dosa suits me fine. In a different category all together is chaat. Chaat is actually originally a North Indian creation but has spread everywhere as food tends to do. it's the Indian equivalent of fast food, though I hate to even make that analogy because it so far surpasses what we know as fast food in every aspect of cuisine that's it's in a different realm altogether. Sailesh introduced me to chaat and I will forever be indebted to him for that--I was hooked at first bite. We started off with pani puri. For this delightful amuse bouche you stand in front of the counter at the ready holding a little dish. The dude on the other side pops a hole with his thumb in a thin, hollow, flaky sphere, stuffs a wad of potato in, dips the whole thing quickly in tamarind juice and then sugar water and plops it onto your tray for you to gobble up in one big, juicy, crunchy, delicious bite. In under a minute or two, you've had three (that's fast food) and are ready for the next tasty treat. Although there are many kinds of chaat, the other one which stands apart form the rest is dhai papdi chaat. I think I could live off of this. Crunchy chips go in first, then mixed veggies and potato, then creamy curd (like yogurt but not sweet really) then green sauce, then red sauce, then 6 or so different spices splashed on with reckless abandon (sometimes thrown across 5 or 6 plates being made at the same time) and a crunchy topping to finish. I imagine there's a local joint in heaven that serves great dhai papdi chaat.
Tea and coffee. Are. Everywhere. On every menu and street corner, served after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner, and also between meals. They come in small cups like you'd get for a double espresso maybe, around 15 cents each. Both have milk and sugar mixed in by pouring the hot liquid back and forth artfully between two containers. The tea is spiced--like a chai latte on it's best day ever. The locals never tire of these and neither will I.
This last part contributes greatly to the theory that coming to India was part of the universe's grand cosmic plan for lil' ol' me. What comes after dosa? (besides tea) Dessert of course and there's no shortage of it here. Cake shops are all over the place, display delicious looking buttercreams of all varieties and sell by the slice and those of you who know me ( I presume that's everyone) know I love cake more than most eatables. Here come the shocker. Now I'm not saying that I haven't sampled piece, but ...wait for it...I pass these up with burning desire to thwart, sometimes even turning my nose up at them! In favor of my waistline? you ask. No (did you see the title of this entry?) In favor of Indian sweets. As many cake shops as there are, sweet shops outnumber them two to one. I don't know how they all stay in business but I am doing my best to help. Like the flatbread, the sweets here are a million and one variations of the same basic creation. You take ghee (like butter but better) and add sugar and then mix and then add a little more ghee and then add a little more sugar for balance and then you have it. Well, pretty much. The sweets here are the sugariest, creamiest and most delectable morsels EVER and you can get 'em for 20 cents a pop. danger. The first one I tried and still my favorite was ghee mysore pauk. When I asked the boy running the counter what he would reccommend, he pointed to this one without a moment's hesitation. Looks like cream colored fudge, melts all buttery in your (my) mouth, coats your (my) tongue with sweetness, screams just one more please. Although that one takes the cake, so to speak, every other one I've tried has been scrumptious in its own right--especially jaangiri: alarmingly orange, winds around itself like funnel cake, oozes with sugary syrup on biting through the batter on the outside, angoor jamoom (sp?): log shaped or ball, spongy, syrupy, messy deliciousness, ghee badusha: flaky layers like baklava, buttery, sweet (duh), sticky, yum
I now understand why they wear loose fitting clothes here. Mystery solved.
P.S. I am now in Kerala, famous for fresh seafood-- I will shortly proceed to test whether this is well deserved...
I am consistently amazed at what food I can get for my rupee. Every time the bill comes, I crack a little smile--I feel as though I'm robbing the place blind! I often end up leaving a hefty 20-30% tip though none is expected- that comes out to about 10 rupees (25 cents). Finally, a place where I can afford to be classy! The name's Kocian. Julia Kocian.
I will now describe for you staple Indian foods. (Why are these not our staple foods!? you could kill in cafeteria swapping with this stuff!) A typical simple meal is some type of flatbread or rice served with dahl (lentil soup) and a variety of different sauces/stews which you either dip/pick up with the bread or mix with the rice, scoop up with your fingers and shovel in with the back of your thumb. There are many variations of flatbread but the most common is dosa. Dosa is made fresh--it's crunchy in the middle where the griddle was hot and around the sides where the batter was thin. The rest is soft and spongy, tears just right and is comforting and delicious any time of day just by itself. It usually comes folded over or rolled around a heap of yummy potato stew-just the right amount of spicy and creamy. Along side is dahl (of course) and a masala sauce and a curd sauce. The masala based one is red and a bit spicy and the curd one is white and cools your mouth--a loverly ying yang thang. Rice is just white rice here but what makes it shine is everything that goes on top. If you order the "full meal" (also called thalis I believe but I've never seen it listed that way) you get a gigantic banana leaf upon which rice is mounded way too high. Then the servers come around and dish different sauces and stews and/or curries on top, you mix it up and scoop it up and enjoy. The only problem with this meal is that the servers assume you want more by default so unless you are (and really even if you are) on your game to tell them no thank you in time, you feel uncomfortably stuffed through the next meal time and possibly the next after that. I sort of avoid these due to that sensation. I don't know how the locals aren't tipping the scales big time considering how much they can put away in one sitting. I've seen men literally consume more than a pot of rice plus all the fixins. The light is always green for seconds and thirds. Oh yeah, the full meals cost around 75 cents.
So those are the basics. The menus at restaurants are always really long and I haven't been able to try everything of course, but it's funny, whatever I order (generally) tends to look a lot like what I got the last time (under a different name too) but with a twist maybe. For now, that's alright with me-dosa suits me fine. In a different category all together is chaat. Chaat is actually originally a North Indian creation but has spread everywhere as food tends to do. it's the Indian equivalent of fast food, though I hate to even make that analogy because it so far surpasses what we know as fast food in every aspect of cuisine that's it's in a different realm altogether. Sailesh introduced me to chaat and I will forever be indebted to him for that--I was hooked at first bite. We started off with pani puri. For this delightful amuse bouche you stand in front of the counter at the ready holding a little dish. The dude on the other side pops a hole with his thumb in a thin, hollow, flaky sphere, stuffs a wad of potato in, dips the whole thing quickly in tamarind juice and then sugar water and plops it onto your tray for you to gobble up in one big, juicy, crunchy, delicious bite. In under a minute or two, you've had three (that's fast food) and are ready for the next tasty treat. Although there are many kinds of chaat, the other one which stands apart form the rest is dhai papdi chaat. I think I could live off of this. Crunchy chips go in first, then mixed veggies and potato, then creamy curd (like yogurt but not sweet really) then green sauce, then red sauce, then 6 or so different spices splashed on with reckless abandon (sometimes thrown across 5 or 6 plates being made at the same time) and a crunchy topping to finish. I imagine there's a local joint in heaven that serves great dhai papdi chaat.
Tea and coffee. Are. Everywhere. On every menu and street corner, served after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner, and also between meals. They come in small cups like you'd get for a double espresso maybe, around 15 cents each. Both have milk and sugar mixed in by pouring the hot liquid back and forth artfully between two containers. The tea is spiced--like a chai latte on it's best day ever. The locals never tire of these and neither will I.
This last part contributes greatly to the theory that coming to India was part of the universe's grand cosmic plan for lil' ol' me. What comes after dosa? (besides tea) Dessert of course and there's no shortage of it here. Cake shops are all over the place, display delicious looking buttercreams of all varieties and sell by the slice and those of you who know me ( I presume that's everyone) know I love cake more than most eatables. Here come the shocker. Now I'm not saying that I haven't sampled piece, but ...wait for it...I pass these up with burning desire to thwart, sometimes even turning my nose up at them! In favor of my waistline? you ask. No (did you see the title of this entry?) In favor of Indian sweets. As many cake shops as there are, sweet shops outnumber them two to one. I don't know how they all stay in business but I am doing my best to help. Like the flatbread, the sweets here are a million and one variations of the same basic creation. You take ghee (like butter but better) and add sugar and then mix and then add a little more ghee and then add a little more sugar for balance and then you have it. Well, pretty much. The sweets here are the sugariest, creamiest and most delectable morsels EVER and you can get 'em for 20 cents a pop. danger. The first one I tried and still my favorite was ghee mysore pauk. When I asked the boy running the counter what he would reccommend, he pointed to this one without a moment's hesitation. Looks like cream colored fudge, melts all buttery in your (my) mouth, coats your (my) tongue with sweetness, screams just one more please. Although that one takes the cake, so to speak, every other one I've tried has been scrumptious in its own right--especially jaangiri: alarmingly orange, winds around itself like funnel cake, oozes with sugary syrup on biting through the batter on the outside, angoor jamoom (sp?): log shaped or ball, spongy, syrupy, messy deliciousness, ghee badusha: flaky layers like baklava, buttery, sweet (duh), sticky, yum
I now understand why they wear loose fitting clothes here. Mystery solved.
P.S. I am now in Kerala, famous for fresh seafood-- I will shortly proceed to test whether this is well deserved...
Monday, September 8, 2008
Indian Adventure Numero Uno
There are so many topics to choose from for this entry--my day trip to Mamallapuram where I saw temples and ate delicious fresh fish, Indian culture and mannerisms I find amusing, what it's like moving about in a city where the population density is well over 25,000 people per square km, food (that one is coming), Sailesh and his family and friends, my first Bollywood movie going--but, I feel that my first true Indian travel experience deserves the spotlight. Let me preface this tale by saying that although I would never wish for anything to go wrong when getting from A to B, it struck me as quite amusing at the time that the very premier of my city to city transport unfolded in this way. I consider myself lucky to have been in such a frame of mind because this trip had plenty of potential to induce irritation.
At 9:30pm, Sailesh and I were getting a bit of a late start making the 2.5 hour journey from Chennai to Puducherry or Pondicherry (all the cities are being renamed post colonialism so you can basically take your pick), but we weren't too worried since buses run often and round the clock. We let a full looking bus or two go by before deciding to just hop on and stand until folks got off (which we figured they surely would as other popular destinations are along the way). Standing was comfortable enough spacewise--not quite shoulder to shoulder so I could take a wide stance and hold on with both hands to steady myself for noisy, pushy, hectic Indian traffic. We stopped a few times to pick up passengers but no one seemed to be getting off early. After about 2 hours of standing, a couple of boys got off and we were able to squeeze on to a seat. Phew!
Not 15 minutes had passed when the driver braked very abruptly sending us all lurching forward. There was a man sitting on the stairs catching the breeze from the opening where the door should have been and when the bus stopped so shortly, he hit his head on the door frame and fell out onto the pavement. Of course there was commotion over this, but instead of pausing to check on the man, the driver--likely fearful of what the harmed party might do in retaliation--stepped hard on the gas and away we went, leaving the poor soul on the side of the road. Some 15 or 20 minutes later, the driver pulled off at a police station and reported the mishap, surely thinking it would be taken care of and we could go on our way. The police were not prepared to let him off so easily and his new engagement meant everyone had to deboard and change buses. This would have been a less interesting development had a new bus been sent for, but no such communication was made and thus, a hefty busload of people found themselves standing on the side of the road in the middle of the night essentially hitchhiking as a group. Plenty of buses were whizzing by but they were either clearly full or simply didn't want to accommodate us. One did stop and of course it was a mob scene to get on so Sailesh and I continued to wait with now half a bus's worth of people. Eventually, another one pulled over. Before we got on passengers were already using standing room, but we all squeezed on anyway, like freshly sealed sardines. I've never been on public transport packed so tightly. Move an inch and you've jabbed your neighbor. On the upside, there was no need to hold on too tightly since there wasn't any space to fall into. At any rate, we reached our final destination well after two am, Sailesh had a snack, I showered and we each collapsed into lovely white sheets at Ginger Hotel (a new line of budget hotels in India). It was the first air-conditioned room I'd stayed in in 6 weeks. I slept very well.
At 9:30pm, Sailesh and I were getting a bit of a late start making the 2.5 hour journey from Chennai to Puducherry or Pondicherry (all the cities are being renamed post colonialism so you can basically take your pick), but we weren't too worried since buses run often and round the clock. We let a full looking bus or two go by before deciding to just hop on and stand until folks got off (which we figured they surely would as other popular destinations are along the way). Standing was comfortable enough spacewise--not quite shoulder to shoulder so I could take a wide stance and hold on with both hands to steady myself for noisy, pushy, hectic Indian traffic. We stopped a few times to pick up passengers but no one seemed to be getting off early. After about 2 hours of standing, a couple of boys got off and we were able to squeeze on to a seat. Phew!
Not 15 minutes had passed when the driver braked very abruptly sending us all lurching forward. There was a man sitting on the stairs catching the breeze from the opening where the door should have been and when the bus stopped so shortly, he hit his head on the door frame and fell out onto the pavement. Of course there was commotion over this, but instead of pausing to check on the man, the driver--likely fearful of what the harmed party might do in retaliation--stepped hard on the gas and away we went, leaving the poor soul on the side of the road. Some 15 or 20 minutes later, the driver pulled off at a police station and reported the mishap, surely thinking it would be taken care of and we could go on our way. The police were not prepared to let him off so easily and his new engagement meant everyone had to deboard and change buses. This would have been a less interesting development had a new bus been sent for, but no such communication was made and thus, a hefty busload of people found themselves standing on the side of the road in the middle of the night essentially hitchhiking as a group. Plenty of buses were whizzing by but they were either clearly full or simply didn't want to accommodate us. One did stop and of course it was a mob scene to get on so Sailesh and I continued to wait with now half a bus's worth of people. Eventually, another one pulled over. Before we got on passengers were already using standing room, but we all squeezed on anyway, like freshly sealed sardines. I've never been on public transport packed so tightly. Move an inch and you've jabbed your neighbor. On the upside, there was no need to hold on too tightly since there wasn't any space to fall into. At any rate, we reached our final destination well after two am, Sailesh had a snack, I showered and we each collapsed into lovely white sheets at Ginger Hotel (a new line of budget hotels in India). It was the first air-conditioned room I'd stayed in in 6 weeks. I slept very well.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Thai Endings, Indian Beginnings
Since I'm behind on my blogging I am actually sitting in an internet cafe in India fixing to write about the last 10 days I spend in Chiang Mai. Much has happened since the last blog but even having only been in India for a matter of hours has transformed Thailand into a distant memory. I will try to pull myself from the sensory overload and relate the last week n a half at least briefly.
In the last few free days before I began my massage course, I took a cooking class, went to the zoo and moto-ed up Doi Sutep with Ted to the Wat at the top with stop on the way up at a lovely waterfall. The cooking class was super fun. Me and the other 6 or 7 people in the group--all very nice--rode in a sawangthaw to the market to learn to shop for rice, oils and meat and then to an organic farm to see how the beggies and herbs are grown. WE grownd our own curry paste with mortar and pestle and spent the morning making curry (I made green), coconut soup and stir-fried chicken with cashews. Then lunch--I don't have to tell you what we ate (yum)--then pad see ew (stir fried big noodles) and mango with sticky rice and coconut milk in the afternoon. I can't wait to try my mad skills out back at home the cooking school sent us home with an awesome recipe book and enough leftovers for dinner that next and breakfast the next morning. Scrumdiddliumpcious.
Most of the time last week I spent split between my Thai Massage course at ITM and roaming the city streets on my gangster red bike which I dubbed Calvin. Calvin and I rode all over town stopping at little shops and street stands and feeling the sun and breeze and merging accross multiple lanes of rapidly oncoming traffic around the moat--that last part snapped us out of our Chiang Mai trance in a jiffy! The massage course was such a blast, the week flew by at lightning speed. The instructors, native and farang (foreigner) at ITM were all exceptionally nice and patient. We began the day with anhour of thai chi and light yoga. I loved that hour. They put on this hilarious recording with directions in chinese in this goofy voice and accompaniying music. The thai chi ended up feeling like we were in a really strange broadway show-- amazing way to kick the morning off right! After warming up and waking up, we had a tea and coffee break and then instruction before lunch and practice after. I'm sure we made quite a spectacle practicing all our crazy tandum stretches (awkwardly at first--it's a new sort of coordination) but it was great fun and since we partnered up, everyone got half a massage each day--the left side for women and the right for men to maintain ying and yang balance of course. The other students were so fun; I have many email addresses to keep track of them with andI feel like I can give a decent thai massage too! But I still need practice so let me know if you have a spare hour or two...I can feel my popularity increasing already ;)
For my last weekend, Ted and I went to a little get together to celebrate the impromtdu marriage of Laura and Roman, two lovely friends of Ted's who decided they couldn't wait to thai the knot (sorry I couldn't help myself). We got them a little wooden buddha (old), a bottle of whiskey (new), Ted's key chain (borrowed) and cute salt and pepper shakers (blue). the next day we were up early for some climbing at Crazy Horse where Chiang Mai Rock Climbing Adventures (where Ted works) sets up camp. It was a beautiful day and climbing was challenging and rewarding in turn. Here's how it worked: Ted would dart up a route lead climbing and then sit back patiently shouting encouragment as I eeked my way wondering if the limestone had shape-shifted while we switched belay. My fingers and toes were just about to run out of steam and then it was time to head back to the city. sunday I took it easy--yoga in the morning, massage in and street strolling in the afternoon. That night, we went with a few friends for thia bbq. The place was tented outdoors and the tables went on for miles; it was Sunday but the place was packed to the hilt. It was buffet style with the one minor difference being that instead of fresh off the grill, the meat was fresh of the butcher's knife. You gathered all the raw animal and vegetable you wanted and brought your killings back to the table to cook on hot pots. Everything was delicious, the atmosphere was phenomenal and after ice cream, we left plump and happy. It was a great finish to my Thai journey. With heavy eyelids and a heavier heart I left the next morning at 5-something-or-other for the airport and by 2pm I was in Chennai.
It was Septembe first and I had remembered my rabitrabitrabits that morning so luck was on my side. At baggage claim, a clean cut indian struck up a conversation with me and then offered to help me find a taxi and then offered to drive me part way to my guesthouse and then offered to show me his family's house and then offered to have me for lunch. Sailesh and I were fast friends, he is one of the most cheerful, generous and down to earch people I know. Ever. Really I feel that the God or Gods or Buddha or somebody upstairs was looking out for me the moment we crossed paths. Sailesh's parents, though slightly more reserved, brimmed with kindness as well.
Lunch. Of course I excepted the opportunity to eat witha family, but of crap, I thought, I've wated no time putting my table manners to the test. Here it is the polite way to use the right fingers to mix rice with the dishes served along side, scoop of a mouthful and shovel it in with the thumb. This being a new motion for me and me being lefthanded, I stuggled a little and felt as though I was making an awful mess of the task, but I looked around and other hands were jsut was food covered as mine. We finished lunch--rice, dahl, potatoe masala or something like that, flaky flatbread and spinch or something like that. I thought it was delicious and the Modis assured me this was just regular run of the mill fare--probably looked like someone going gaga ove a turkey and cheese sandwich. Ah well. This was one heck of a turkey and cheese sandwich. After looking as some pictures with Sailesh and his mom I was on my way.
The rest of the afternoon and evening I spent walking around taking in the sights and checking out places to stay, answering emails and prchasing an Indian phone. While walking I really began to feel India. Everything here is saturated--color, noise, smells, traffic, shops, people (especially people)--everything. It is just A LOT. Beacuse I've been traveling in SE Asia, not many things are totally foreign--the autoautos are tuktuks, the motos are motos, it's polluted, people walk in the street, there are small food stands along the roads and so on, but here however much or many of something I saw, it's 10 fold. What's more, I was convinced for a while that I was literally the only foreiner in all of India. To be perfectly blunt, I saw 2 other white people from a distance one time and then no others for a day and a half and that was while I was walking everywhere and out and about. Later today (tuesday) I met some nice US girls doing a study abroad program, but really the absence of touists is shocking. I got togther with Sailesh agian tonight and we went to a couple of trendy bars for some live music which was fun and we're gonna hunt down some easfood tomorrow for lunch. Schlurp!
In the last few free days before I began my massage course, I took a cooking class, went to the zoo and moto-ed up Doi Sutep with Ted to the Wat at the top with stop on the way up at a lovely waterfall. The cooking class was super fun. Me and the other 6 or 7 people in the group--all very nice--rode in a sawangthaw to the market to learn to shop for rice, oils and meat and then to an organic farm to see how the beggies and herbs are grown. WE grownd our own curry paste with mortar and pestle and spent the morning making curry (I made green), coconut soup and stir-fried chicken with cashews. Then lunch--I don't have to tell you what we ate (yum)--then pad see ew (stir fried big noodles) and mango with sticky rice and coconut milk in the afternoon. I can't wait to try my mad skills out back at home the cooking school sent us home with an awesome recipe book and enough leftovers for dinner that next and breakfast the next morning. Scrumdiddliumpcious.
Most of the time last week I spent split between my Thai Massage course at ITM and roaming the city streets on my gangster red bike which I dubbed Calvin. Calvin and I rode all over town stopping at little shops and street stands and feeling the sun and breeze and merging accross multiple lanes of rapidly oncoming traffic around the moat--that last part snapped us out of our Chiang Mai trance in a jiffy! The massage course was such a blast, the week flew by at lightning speed. The instructors, native and farang (foreigner) at ITM were all exceptionally nice and patient. We began the day with anhour of thai chi and light yoga. I loved that hour. They put on this hilarious recording with directions in chinese in this goofy voice and accompaniying music. The thai chi ended up feeling like we were in a really strange broadway show-- amazing way to kick the morning off right! After warming up and waking up, we had a tea and coffee break and then instruction before lunch and practice after. I'm sure we made quite a spectacle practicing all our crazy tandum stretches (awkwardly at first--it's a new sort of coordination) but it was great fun and since we partnered up, everyone got half a massage each day--the left side for women and the right for men to maintain ying and yang balance of course. The other students were so fun; I have many email addresses to keep track of them with andI feel like I can give a decent thai massage too! But I still need practice so let me know if you have a spare hour or two...I can feel my popularity increasing already ;)
For my last weekend, Ted and I went to a little get together to celebrate the impromtdu marriage of Laura and Roman, two lovely friends of Ted's who decided they couldn't wait to thai the knot (sorry I couldn't help myself). We got them a little wooden buddha (old), a bottle of whiskey (new), Ted's key chain (borrowed) and cute salt and pepper shakers (blue). the next day we were up early for some climbing at Crazy Horse where Chiang Mai Rock Climbing Adventures (where Ted works) sets up camp. It was a beautiful day and climbing was challenging and rewarding in turn. Here's how it worked: Ted would dart up a route lead climbing and then sit back patiently shouting encouragment as I eeked my way wondering if the limestone had shape-shifted while we switched belay. My fingers and toes were just about to run out of steam and then it was time to head back to the city. sunday I took it easy--yoga in the morning, massage in and street strolling in the afternoon. That night, we went with a few friends for thia bbq. The place was tented outdoors and the tables went on for miles; it was Sunday but the place was packed to the hilt. It was buffet style with the one minor difference being that instead of fresh off the grill, the meat was fresh of the butcher's knife. You gathered all the raw animal and vegetable you wanted and brought your killings back to the table to cook on hot pots. Everything was delicious, the atmosphere was phenomenal and after ice cream, we left plump and happy. It was a great finish to my Thai journey. With heavy eyelids and a heavier heart I left the next morning at 5-something-or-other for the airport and by 2pm I was in Chennai.
It was Septembe first and I had remembered my rabitrabitrabits that morning so luck was on my side. At baggage claim, a clean cut indian struck up a conversation with me and then offered to help me find a taxi and then offered to drive me part way to my guesthouse and then offered to show me his family's house and then offered to have me for lunch. Sailesh and I were fast friends, he is one of the most cheerful, generous and down to earch people I know. Ever. Really I feel that the God or Gods or Buddha or somebody upstairs was looking out for me the moment we crossed paths. Sailesh's parents, though slightly more reserved, brimmed with kindness as well.
Lunch. Of course I excepted the opportunity to eat witha family, but of crap, I thought, I've wated no time putting my table manners to the test. Here it is the polite way to use the right fingers to mix rice with the dishes served along side, scoop of a mouthful and shovel it in with the thumb. This being a new motion for me and me being lefthanded, I stuggled a little and felt as though I was making an awful mess of the task, but I looked around and other hands were jsut was food covered as mine. We finished lunch--rice, dahl, potatoe masala or something like that, flaky flatbread and spinch or something like that. I thought it was delicious and the Modis assured me this was just regular run of the mill fare--probably looked like someone going gaga ove a turkey and cheese sandwich. Ah well. This was one heck of a turkey and cheese sandwich. After looking as some pictures with Sailesh and his mom I was on my way.
The rest of the afternoon and evening I spent walking around taking in the sights and checking out places to stay, answering emails and prchasing an Indian phone. While walking I really began to feel India. Everything here is saturated--color, noise, smells, traffic, shops, people (especially people)--everything. It is just A LOT. Beacuse I've been traveling in SE Asia, not many things are totally foreign--the autoautos are tuktuks, the motos are motos, it's polluted, people walk in the street, there are small food stands along the roads and so on, but here however much or many of something I saw, it's 10 fold. What's more, I was convinced for a while that I was literally the only foreiner in all of India. To be perfectly blunt, I saw 2 other white people from a distance one time and then no others for a day and a half and that was while I was walking everywhere and out and about. Later today (tuesday) I met some nice US girls doing a study abroad program, but really the absence of touists is shocking. I got togther with Sailesh agian tonight and we went to a couple of trendy bars for some live music which was fun and we're gonna hunt down some easfood tomorrow for lunch. Schlurp!
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